If I Wasn't Late for Work
by Hetalia Garden
Summary: "'WILL YOU GO ON A DATE WITH ME' Alfred yelled from the car. Arthur was shocked and acted on impulse. '...YES'"
1. Chapter 1: Bloody American!

If I Wasn't Late for Work

Chapter 1:Bloody American!

Arthur ran out of flat in the midst of getting his arms through his coat sleeves and locking the door behind him. He hadn't planned on being late, in fact he had never been late a day in his life - not for school, not for work, not even for the pub, today shouldn't have been any different. He tried to keep his footsteps quiet as he scurried through the hallways and down the elevator until he reached the garage, it was just five in the morning and he expected most were still fast asleep. He opened the car door and threw his belongings into the backseat, his umbrella, notebook, daily planner, and briefcase. Turning on the car, he headed out of the garage and into a downpour of rain.

"Bollocks," he muttered as he entered into the bumper to bumper traffic of London. Today of all days was the worst day to be late for work. Being the Royal Overseer of Events to all of the Queen's functions, Arthur had planned brunch between the Queen and the President of the United States of America. It was a stressful job as it was, but it paid well and was something Arthur took pleasure in. He always had a knack for event planning and his love of British royalty was overwhelming - just standing in old castles and palaces where old kings and queens walked made him smile. He barely talked to the Queen though, he saw her often enough but he was just another face among many.

He sighed, it was five-fifteen in the morning and there should have been no traffic whatsoever at this ungodly hour. But of course there would be, it was the day he **could not be late**. He needed to be at the Buckingham Palace in less than twenty minutes and he was several miles away. The plans of the day had to be overseen and doubled-checked, and he doubted anyone was as thorough as he was. Nothing could go wrong. If so much as the silverware was set up wrong, it would be an embarrassment to the Queen, and an embarrassment to all of the country. Especially if it was a brunch with the President. The Queen and her attendants were strict people who didn't tolerate lateness at all, even being five minutes late was looked down upon. He could fathom being as late as an hour or two, which what he would be if the traffic didn't clear.

He heard his phone's shrill ring on the passenger seat. He held his breath, perhaps it was someone to reprimand him on being late or worse. He picked it up and looked to see who the caller was only to be relieved.

"What the hell do you want cheesey monkey?"

"I was going to wish you a good morning but now I won't! 'ow was your morning? Enjoying ze rain, et ze traffic, et your missing alarm clock," Francis' annoyingly perky voice chimed into the phone.

"How do _you_ know about my alarm clock?" Arthur asked, emphasizing the _you_ with disgust.

"Well, I 'ave your alarm clock, parce que...you left it with moi, and it woke me up at five in ze morning! Why would you wake up zat early?"

"I should have known it was you! Has it ever occured to you that I actually may use that alarm in order to wake me up for important business matters. TODAY THE QUEEN IS MEETING THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT YOU PRICK!" Arthur roared at the Frenchman. He couldn't understand why Francis had decided to ruin him, especially today. Francis had always enjoyed mercilessly torturing him, but Arthur had always gotten his revenge in the end. But stealing his alarm clock when he had warned Francis to stay away from his alarms for weeks was unforgivable. He would be sure that his revenge would be painful.

"Zat is what you use a phone for, mon ami," Francis laughed, "No one still uses alarm clocks, zey are for old people."

"Listen to me _Francis_, when I see you again I will shave off that lovely hair of yours and I'll burn it right in front of you"

"Oh so you admit my 'air is lovely? Why thank you, Arthur! I zink I can do somezing with zat 'air of yours to make it more like mine."

"Last time I ever took any hair advice from you froggy I looked like a caterpillar. I hope you get hit by a bus! Or maybe I'll run you over myself and say it was an accident!"

"You look like a caterpillar anyway," he said. "So I see you'll be late today? Should I tell ze Queen? She'll be very disappointed, per'aps even fire you! Zat would be awful would it not? Or you could be demoted, maybe thrown in ze tower. Zat would be funny, I would like to watch."

"I wish I could go back in time and convince your mother to abort you! Where are you?"

"Ma mere loves me too much to do zat. In my apartment, _I _don't 'ave to be in until noon. But zanks to your alarm I am now up, making breakfast. You probably skipped yours, oui? Are you zere yet, rosbif?"

"No you French f**k trumpet!" Arthur replied. He furiously ended the call and threw his phone onto the passenger seat.

* * *

Alfred's obnoxious alarm blasted in his ears, groaning he threw a pillow over it and rubbed his eyes. His first reaction was to bury himself deeper into his covers, but he didn't have the luxury of that today. He walked blindly from his warm bed towards his closet, forgetting his glasses on the bedside table. He put on whatever was clean, threw his backpack over his shoulder, and headed out towards the driveway just underneath his flat. He walked down the stairs towards his motorcycle, his hair became damp from the rain as he put on his gloves, jacket, and helmet, he didn't necessarily like the weather in England during autumn it was either rainy, gloomy, or foggy, the time he liked it most was during the summer when it reminded him a little of home. He only left his house in Miami to get a better medical education in another country, sure there had been great schools in Florida but he wanted the best he could get. With the money he earned over the summers during high school, he paid for a ticket to London and was offered an education at King Arthur of Camelot University.

He had to arrive at school early in order to finish a science project before his first lecture, which meant getting up at 5 in the morning. No one in their right minds should even think of getting up that early. University was still new to Alfred, he thought he'd never be used to his new life in England. He didn't have many friends at uni, no one wanted to talk to him, probably because they thought he was a stupid American. He didn't understand it when he first got to the school, he had always been social and to be alone was a new thing to him. But thankfully, he was in his last year of University and was ready to return home to his family and friends back in Florida.

It was pouring and there was an absurd amount of traffic clogging up the streets. Luckily for Alfred, one of the many benefits of owning a motorcycle was its ability to zip between cars and escape traffic. His motorcycle was a gift from his boss and coworkers on his 19th birthday, he worked in a mechanic's shop a short distance from his flat. His boss was a intimidating man from Germany and his lover was a friendly immigrant from Italy. His boss, Ludwig was a strict, scary man on the outside but he was a big softy on the inside. Once when Alfred had entered his boss's office without knocking he saw an intimate exchange of kisses between Ludwig and his lover, Feliciano. He wasn't entirely familiar with relationships between two men but he didn't mind it, he liked when Feliciano visited, he'd always bring good Italian food and Ludwig wasn't as strict as he usually was around the shop. He was paid at least 20 dollars an hour fixing cars for the well-off and was happy working there for the time being.

He was making good time, he assumed only five more minutes until he was there and could finish his project in peace. The cars started to move again so he pulled behind the closest car to him and nearly collided with the bumper of it. The car hadn't moved an inch when the traffic began clearing. Alfred was becoming frustrated, he was making perfect time and for some stupid reason this driver refused to move.

"MOVE UP!" He yelled, but the car still didn't move. Alfred peered up to look through the back window of the car, squinting to get a better look. Without his glasses he could barely see, but from what his vision would allow he saw the driver fiddling with the radio. Without a second thought he banged on the back window.

"GIVE ME A BLOODY SECOND YOU YANKEE!" yelled the driver out of the window.  
"YOU'RE TAKING TOO LONG!" Alfred screamed as he zoomed past the driver accidentally tearing off his rearview mirror in the process.  
Arthur saw the motorcyclist zoom past him and through the traffic, "What the bloody hell is up with that jacket, 50? Must be an American with no patience for queues whatsoever," he scoffed. Turning his attention back to the road he began to drive up when he realized the absence of his rearview mirror.

"F**KING AMERICAN!"

* * *

Unfortunately, due to the loss of his rearview mirror and his slow driving Arthur was ticketed by a familiar Spanish police officer.  
"Why are you giving this to me, you know me! Antonio!" Arthur argued, ripping the ticket up, "I don't have time for this."  
"Francis y me have been following your car for a while now. Surprised you hadn't noticed us before." Antonio explained pointing towards a flamboyant Frenchman sitting in the passenger seat.

"Francis was with you? I thought he was at home?"

"Well he was but he called me and said you were running late. Thought you might need a ride there. Francis can drive your car instead." Antonio suggested. Arthur was hesitant, he didn't want the psychotic Frenchman driving his car and going through his things, but he was running late and was desperate for any opportunity to get to work on time.

"Okay. But he better be careful, and not touch my things, or crash my car or I'll make you pay for a new one, I've had my eye on a Bentley!" He threatened Francis. Arthur got inside the police car with Antonio, who put the sirens on at full blast. They sped through traffic and arrived at the palace a minute late without the Queen's knowing. He showed the guards his ID and tore through the palace going through the arrangements. The brunch went by swiftly and without a hitch, just as he had hoped. He sighed in relief.

Antonio ended up driving him home, even though he insisted upon using public transportation. He arrived at his flat just as dark as it had been in the morning. Gathering what was left of his energy he trudged into the garage and inspected his car. Everything seemed to be in place, except for his rearview mirror. He went to check the other side for damage when he noticed he was missing his entire bumper..

'_Francis_' Arthur thought, '_will pay_' With that in mind, he walked up to his solitary flat on the 9th floor with his alarm clock in hand.


	2. Chapter 2: The Mechanic

Chapter 2: The Mechanic

Arthur's car had sat unused in the garage for many days. He'd been too concerned with work to have it fixed so he had either been using public transportation or accepting rides from Antonio and Francis (He hated it). He'd been looking into car shops that specialized in the body work of cars but had yet to find any that he liked. He decided to go to a shop a particularly long way away from his flat owned by a trustworthy German man, which Antonio suggested.

"Yeah amigo! It's better than my cousin's shop. He charges way too much and makes your car worse. I suggest this German man. My Lovino's brother is lovey dovey with him that reminds me, don't forget to knock on his door before entering. I can give you a ride if you want."

"I'd rather walk"

"You sure? It's a long walk for your skinny chicken legs."

"You blast Spanish music in your car! I have been listening to it for five days straight! It's either French or Spanish, and I just want good ole bloody English."

"Whatever amigo!" Spain then took off in his police car.

The walk to the shop was absolutely horrific. The cars were especially noisy and had managed to drive into every puddle of water that was near Arthur. He was splashed numerous times, and when the shop was in view he was already drenched. He made a beeline towards it, avoiding any cars or those treacherous puddles. He walked into the open garage in one the worst moods he's ever been in. Before he could even think he saw a man looking at the engine of a car, his white shirt was soaked in his own sweat and stained in car oil revealing the outline of his perfectly chiseled abs. He had a healthy glow unlike the usual English sickly appearance, and had a handsome face with a defined jaw line, captivating blue eyes, and his golden hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. 'Oh my God!' England thought as his ability to process any proper thoughts melted away. 'This must be a gift God sent me after these weeks of torture!' He couldn't bring himself to stop staring and stood awkwardly in the middle of the garage.

"Can I help you?" The God asked, wiping his brow with a rag. Arthur was so mesmerized by his body that couldn't formulate any sentences. In turn this made the situation incredibly uncomfortable for the mechanic.

"Vat do you vant!" yelled a very intimidating German man. Arthur was quickly pulled back into reality.

"I-I was w-wondering if-f you c-could fix my car sir." he stuttered frightened of the barbaric German man.

"Vell I guess so. Vere is it?"

"Well a "friend" of mine borrowed it and used up all my gas, ran over a curb, and the bumper fell off, also a few weeks ago the rearview mirror was taken off. It won't turn on when I turn the key in the ignition."

"Vell I guess Alfred can take you zere in ze tow-truck." nudging his head towards the God.

"Sure" said Alfred wearing a huge grin.

"N-no arguments here!" stated Arthur.

Alfred set the rag on the hood of the car and walked past Arthur, when Arthur didn't move he shook his shoulder, "The truck is this way, dude. You zoning out?" Arthur turned bright red. They climbed into the car and took off down the road while Alfred drove and Arthur navigated. Every time Arthur was caught staring at Alfred, he'd quickly moved his head forward.

"Is there something on my face?" Alfred asked oblivious of Arthur's stares.

"No...ah I was just looking if you were going in the right direction,"

"You're weird you know that?"

"Oh, thanks...wait a moment, that accent... are you from the States?"

"Yeah I'm from Florida. You're probably from here, right? Mister..."

"Arthur, Arthur Kirkland"

"I'm Alfred but I guess you already know that. So...what do you do for a living, if you don't mind me asking, just making small talk."

"I oversee the events for the Queen. Like what she wears, the food she'll eat, the number of guests, and the decorations things like that"

"Wow that's cool! So you work with the Queen as in the Queen Queen?"

"Yes," he mumbled quietly.

"What's she like? I've never met her - what's her name again? Victoria? Elizabeth I? Oh yeah Queen Lizzy!"

"Queen Elizabeth II" Arthur laughed "She very stiff and can be frightening at times but she means well. She's nobility after all."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. That German guy back there, Ludwig, he's my boss. He's pretty terrifying when you piss him off but he's a good man. Sometimes his boyfriend comes to the shop and brings really good Italian food and hey it's free food..." It wasn't long before they arrived at Arthur's apartment complex and parked in front of his garage. Arthur brought out his remote and clicked the button that opened the garage door. Once the door the door was up, Alfred began looking at the car.

"Wow! What the hell happened to your car? Did you drive it off a cliff or something?" Alfred commented, circling the car.

"No, I already informed your boss that my_ friend _borrowed it and unfortunately he returned it worse than the original state it was in." Arthur responded bitterly .

"He even went out of his way to tear off your rearview mirror. I'm impressed."

"Fortunately for him. It was some tosser on a motorbike from _America_."

"I see..."

"Not that America's a bad place or anything, I didn't mean it that way."

"Sure" Alfred said with a fake reassuring smile. "We'll have your car fixed as soon as possible. I forgot the paperwork you have to fill out and I can't tow your car without it. So do you want me to pick it up tomorrow and you can come back to the shop with me and fill it out?"

"Of course"

"How about 2?"

"Sure. I should be off work by then." Arthur replied as Alfred got inside his car a drove off.

'He probably thinks I'm one of those condescending Englishman who think Americans are stupid fat tourists. He hates me!'Arthur concluded as he trudged up the steps to the lobby.

* * *

Arthur had been waiting for 30 minutes for the American man to pick him up. He wasn't exactly looking forward to spending several minutes in a car with a man who probably wanted to throw him in front of a moving train for that comment he made. It was the usual cloudy weather that was on the verge of raining, he paced in front of the lobby doors waiting for the tow truck to show up in front. The silence was suddenly broken when some noisy music was heard from only a few yards away.

'Who the bloody hell is playing that god forsaken music?' Arthur thought with disdain plastered on his face. He opened up the lobby door and looked down the street, catching sight of a truck not too far off. The closer it came the more Arthur could recognize it as the car that dropped him off yesterday, when the car was parked fully in front of his flat he could see Alfred's beaming face. His head shaking to the obnoxious music and a hamburger stuffed in his mouth. Arthur could smell the overbearing odor of McDonald's.

'What a gentleman.' Arthur thought sarcastically. The anger melted off when Alfred climbed out of the car and opened up the passenger side for Arthur, beaming at him.

Arthur walked the rest of the distance to the door, "Thank you Alfred...I want to apologize for what I said the other day-"

"Oh don't worry, it's forgotten and forgiven!" Alfred interrupted. Arthur nodded and got inside the car. Alfred walked to the other side and sat in the drivers seat.

"Buckle-up!" Alfred instructed gleefully. Alfred towed Arthur's damaged vehicle and headed towards the mechanics'. They pulled up in front of the garage and stepped out of the car. Walking in he saw a bubbly, bouncing, Italian man serving food to Ludwig and Alfred's coworkers.

"Feliciano ve have to vork!"

"Ve~ Ludwig you need to eat food to stay nice and healthy!" Feliciano said giving Ludwig a peck on the cheek thus making Ludwig blush.

"Hey can I have some? What did you bring this time Feli? Pizza, pasta, lasagna?" Alfred asked.

"Didn't you just eat 3 burgers from McDonald's?" Arthur asked picking up the discarded wrappers of the cheeseburgers.

"There's always room for more!" Alfred picked up a plate and piled everything on it. "Come have some food Arthur! It's delicious!" Alfred motioned Arthur while shoving pasta into his mouth.

"No...I shouldn't. I had lunch a little while ago, I don't want to intrude." Arthur lied.

"Alfred, vy don't you give ze constumer ze the forms to fill out." instructed the Ludwig.

"Sure thing boss!"

Alfred got up from sitting on a tire stack to a small work space in the corner of the garage. He set his plate down and got out a stack of paper. He stuck a spoon full of spaghetti in his mouth while digging through the drawers for some sort of writing utensil. Arthur was handed the stack of papers and a pen when they were all located and saw a splatter of spaghetti sauce on a corner of the paper.

"This is where you sign." Alfred pointed at the last page on the very end.

"How much will this cost?"

"Around 1,000₤"

"Oh." Arthur muttered as he began filling out the papers. 'Francis would be paying half of the cost so it couldn't be too much. No. Francis would be paying three quarters of it since he did most of the damage, all I need to pay is for a new rearview mirror.' He finished signing the paperwork and handed it to the American.

"It should be fixed in no time" Alfred assured, as he grabbed the papers back from Arthur and handed them to Ludwig. "Boss, do you want me to leave these with you or put them in your office?"

"In my office."

"Oki-doki!" Alfred obeyed carelessly dropping them on Ludwig's desk. "Would you like me to drive you back home?"

"No I'll just call a friend."

"No I insist!"

"S-sure" Arthur responded as Alfred scarfed down the rest of his food. They went into the car and drove off back towards Arthur's flat. Barely colliding into another car Alfred thought it wise to fix his interior rearview mirror only to catch glimpse of Arthur's green eyes. He hadn't seen such illuminating green eyes before.

"You have nice eyes you know that?" Alfred pointed out.  
"W-what?"  
"Your eyes they're very... captivating."  
"No one has ever said that to me before" Arthur said, completely flattered.  
"Really? Thats a surprise, they're a nice shade of green."  
"Oh thank you"  
"No problem," Alfred replied. They continued driving until they reached Arthur's flat.  
"Thanks for the lift"  
"Yeah. No worries" Alfred said giving Arthur a wave and drove off. Arthur began to smile, he was incredibly happy and couldn't understand why all he could decipher was that Alfred was truly a gentleman at heart.

* * *

While driving back to the shop, Alfred thought back to Arthur Kirkland. He wasn't like the students at his school, he was more polite. Sure Arthur was a little peculiar and had inadvertently insulted Alfred but he was sure that Arthur hadn't meant it. He arrived back at the shop just as they were cleaning up the food and getting back to work. Feliciano spotted him and ran up to the car door before Alfred could even get out.  
"Was that your friend? He was very polite, but he should have eaten with us. There was plenty to go around, ve~," Feliciano paused, as if searching for the right thing to say, "Oh! Next time you could bring him to my restaurant and use this coupon." Feliciano chimed as he gave Alfred the coupon and skipped towards Ludwig's office, "Ludwig~ Ludwig where are you hiding? ve~ I found you."  
'A friend?' Alfred pondered.


	3. Chapter 3: A trip down the Candy Section

Chapter 3: A Trip to the Candy Section 

Pushing around his shopping cart, Arthur entered into the supermarket with Francis and Antonio.

"We'll be in the wine section," said the mischievous Spaniard and Frenchman. Arthur wasn't sure why they decided to join him but he knew they had ulterior motives. He knew whenever they were together they were plotting and whenever they were plotting it meant something bad was going to happen. Even if they said they weren't going to do anything, _they were_. He shook his head and went to the produce section, if they wanted to make a fool out of themselves in public, it didn't have anything to do with him. He browsed the fruits and vegetables and made sure not to overlook the items on sale. He wanted to make a well-balanced meal consisting of many vegetables and fish. He headed towards the brussel sprouts and grabbed a small plastic bag. He piled a variety of vegetables in his cart, he was sure that Antonio and Francis would be staying for dinner so he got a small bag of tomatoes and a baguette. They could say they hated his cooking or that it was the "worst zing I 'ave ever tasted" but they still stayed for meals.

He continued down towards the fruits section grabbing some strawberries, bananas, apples, and some raspberries that were in season. He slowly moved towards the butcher and requested two Chilean sea bass gutted and filleted. He loved fish, ever since he was a child he remembered his mother cooking them on the grill and dousing them with many herbs and oils and he hoped he is able to cook like her. While he was waiting for the fish to be packaged for him a small child ran into his midsection. He looked down only to see a small girl - maybe three or four with her brown hair done up in pigtails. Her eyes began to water and she bolted past him to a man browsing through the meats.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed locking her arms around his legs. He couldn't help but stare at the supposed father of the little girl. He couldn't believe it, he'd thought he never see him again. It was the face of a man he once loved and believed had loved him back. Arthur hurriedly grabbed the fish from the butcher and headed towards a deserted aisle filled with canned goods. He needed to escape any contact with his ex-lover by all means.

"Arthur?" asked a voice behind. He knew that voice. His stomach flipped and formed knots and his heart felt light in his chest. Arthur turned around slowly hoping that it was a worker or maybe even Francis wanting his attention. However, to his dismay it was the man he was desperate to forget. He was an older man in his early 40s and with soft wrinkles to show it. He couldn't seem to possess a sincere smile nor could he speak without adding a hint of criticism. His appearance was well composed, his dark hair swept out of his face and his suit pressed and clean. He had aged well.

"Tom," Arthur tried to hide his informal appearance behind his cart. His own hair must have been ratty and unbrushed from a night of drinking, his clothes were mismatched now that he actually looked at them, and he didn't have the time to iron his sweater. 'Stupid Spanish bastard. Why did I let him take me to an Irish pub? WHY DO I EVEN ASSOCIATE WITH HIM?'

"You're looking. . . . ._well_," his words were biting. Scrutinizing his appearance since they last met. This drove Arthur crazy, he couldn't believe after all this time Tom was still the same narcissistic person he used to be. He could only see one exit strategy and that was to end the conversation as quick as he could.

"It's nice seeing you. I really wish we could talk but I have some important matters to attend to at home so it you don't mind..."

"_Really? _What _important _matters do you have to attend to?" Tom interrupted knowing full well of Arthur's lies. Arthur felt sick, he wished he never decided to come to the store that day.

"M-my..."

"Arthur!" a bright voice shouted behind him. Arthur turned around and saw none other than the friendly mechanic from the States.

"Alfred." He replied with a sigh of relief.

"This guy botherin' ya?"  
"Oh, and who are you? You realize you're interrupting our conversation," Tom said, crossing his arms and glaring at Alfred.

"Aren't you an American? What are you doing here?" Tom's daughter asked meliciously.

Alfred slung an arm around Arthur's shoulders and brought him close, "Arthur and me were just about to -"

"You mean Arthur and I. I guess they didn't teach you any grammar back in that country of yours. You sure know how to pick them Arthur." Tom sneered.

"I don't give a damn about your grammar, we're in a _supermarket_! Come on Arthur, let's go to the candy section," Alfred demanded angrily. He steered Arthur's cart down the aisle, and smashed his shoulder into Tom's nearly knocking him into his cart.

Alfred turned his head towards Tom and growled, "I hope that kid of yours doesn't turn out to be half the prick you are." Alfred intertwined his fingers with Arthur's and pulled him down the aisles until they reached the candy section.

"I can't believe you did that." Arthur breathed.

Alfred shrugged, looking through the candy and adding bags of it to sate his rage. He couldn't get the man's face out of his view - his criticizing, snide, sneering mug. And Arthur's. He looked so upset as if he would have bolted from the scene if he could. "So who was that guy?" he asked.

"Just a...an ex-boyfriend."

"Oh. Your ex? You..." Alfred hesitated. "You like men?"

"Um well yes. I-I hope that doesn't change your opinion of me."

"What? Of course not. Why would that change my opinion of you? My boss is dating a man. Remember that Italian man we saw the other day? That's him."

"Oh I see. Now that you mention it..."

"That reminds me, I was just. . . .I was wondering if you wanted to- "

"Caterpillar! Zere you are! We 'ave been looking for you," Francis interjected eyeing Alfred. "Nice catch" he whispered into Arthur's ear. "Who might you be?"

"I'm Alfred, I'm fixing up Arthur's car."

"Ah! An Americaine! 'Ow interesting." he added winking at Arthur. "Je m'appelle Francis and zis mon ami is Antonio. We are good friends of Arthur's."

"I guess you're giving Arthur a ride home then."

"Francis and I have to go straight to work so we won't be able to take Arthur back. Do you think you could take him home?" the Spaniard suggested. Before Alfred could answer Antonio and Francis headed out the store wearing smiles of satifaction.

"I could take you back if you need to, and before you say anything it's no problem at all," Alfred said.

"No, no, they were just bluffing. I doubt they really left me here," Arthur sighed, "and you aren't a taxi service, Alfred. I'll just take a bus or the underground."

"You'd look ridiculous with all those groceries, dude, come on. I'm heading in your direction anyway, it's not a bother," he persuaded. Arthur ended up grudgingly agreeing, though insisted that he would pay for Alfred's candy in turn. Alfred loaded the groceries in the back of the truck with ease then started up the car. As they were driving out of the parking lot it dawned on Arthur why Alfred would be in the market.

"Where are your groceries?"

Alfred turned to Arthur, his mouth lost for words, "...That's a good question...they're...it doesn't matter, I'll go back later."

They burst into a fit of laughter, Arthur struggled to regain his composure, "How do you just forget your groceries at a market?"

"I don't even know!" Alfred laughed, but it started to die away when he realized why he left them, "I got distracted by that _guy_! What was his name anyway?"

"Tom, he's not the best person to run into," Arthur mumbled. He wanted to end this conversation as soon as possible.

"He was really old...I mean that's cool and all, do you like older guys?" he pried. He could help but feel a little put off, Tom was everything he wasn't - successful, put together and older.

"He was my professor during my years at University. I honestly can't remember why I fell for him. He was such an arse," Arthur confessed.

"Is he rich? I mean he was wearing some nice stuff. He still a professor?"

"No. He used to be my biology professor but he became a doctor and married his colleague at the hospital and they had a family. We weren't really together... it was just a fling"

"Well he was stupid anyway! I'm glad you're not with him anymore!" the liveliness died down between the two and was replaced with a stale, awkward silence.

"A-about that mirror of yours"

"Yeah what about it?"

"How'd ya get it taken off?"

"While I waiting in traffic the other day and it just began to clear up this impatient bloke on a motorcycle ripped it clean off." Arthur ranted. Alfred furrowed his brow,

'Was he that moron in the car that was fiddling with his radio? No... Arthur's a better driver than that, right?'Alfred questioned. "Sounds awful" Alfred agreed.

"It was terrible, I was almost late for work. Luckily my friends were there to help me get there on time"

"They seem...nice. Not really my type of people, but they're nice."

"What are your friends like?"

"There's Ludwig...but he's my boss," Alfred's voice quieted, "I don't really have many friends of my own, most people think I'm stupid or something and I don't want to spend my time with those types of people."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know..." Arthur paused, "I could be your friend...that is if you want to "

"Okay, yeah!" Alfred said with his heart racing. He restrained himself from letting go of the steering wheel and throwing his arms around the little British man. Once they arrived in front of his flat, they unloaded the groceries, Alfred carrying as many as he could and Arthur only carrying a minimum of two bags due to Alfred's insistence. Arthur opened the door to his flat and they stepped inside placing all his groceries on his kitchen counter.  
"Nice place you got here" Alfred complimented. He was ready to head back down to the lobby when his stomach emitted a particularly large growl.  
"Was that you?"  
"Yeah I guess I'm a bit hungry, I skipped out on lunch" Alfred said giving his head a scratch.  
"Why don't you stay for dinner? I'm a pretty decent chef if I don't say so myself."  
"Okay! Do you need any help?"  
"No just make yourself comfortable on my couch" Alfred walked towards Arthurs living room and sprawled out on his comfy couch. After an hour of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen and the rancid smell of burnt garbage dinner was finally ready. Alfred walked towards the dining table and took a seat across from Arthur. He stared at the food that seemed to have been roasted until it looked like a pile of death. Alfred was on the verge of tears. Though it was presented nicely with silverware and fine china, the smell and appearance could make a starving man think twice upon eating it.

"Dig in!" Arthur said, cutting out a healthy size for himself. Alfred took the smallest portions of food that he could eat without dying. He took a bite of what seemed to be a brussel sprout but ended up in a coughing fit. Arthur sat across from him, his eyes large and set on Alfred's reaction to his cooking.

"Do you like it? Everyone says it's terrible, but what do you think?" his face was downcast when he mentioned they disliked his food.

"It's delicious!" Alfred said stuffing a forkful of the disgusting food into his mouth. He would soon regret it later.

A smile spread across Arthur's face, "I'm glad you like it" Alfred felt his heart melt, he would do anything to keep that smile on his face. Even if it meant eating certain death. Which is exactly what he did for the rest of the courses, even through dessert. Alfred was completely stuffed by the end, but did have room for a few pieces of candy to soothe his upset stomach. When the meals were finished he helped Arthur with the dishes and they walked down to his truck.

"Thanks for having me over," Alfred said, "we should do this again sometime."

"That would be lovely."

A tint of red spread across Alfred's face as he inched closer to Arthur and pulled him into a loose embrace. After seconds of realization Alfred quickly let go of Arthur and fixed his glasses. With a quick word of goodbye Alfred hopped into his truck and drove down the road. Arthur shook his head and began walking in the direction of his flat. The silence was broken by the screeching of tires, he gave a glance in the noise's general direction when he saw the truck out of the corner of his eye. From what he could decipher in the dark, Alfred's face was bright red and had a nervous smile.

"WILL YOU GO ON A DATE WITH ME?" He yelled from the car.

Arthur was shocked and acted on impulse. "...YES!"


	4. Chapter 4: Meaningless Anxiety

Chapter 4: Meaningless Anxiety 

Arthur felt uneasy about his date with Alfred. The last date he remembered was with Tom and it was a disaster. He had forced himself on Arthur with proclamations of love, and so they ended up going farther than Arthur would have liked, but Alfred seemed as if he was above that. Still, he couldn't help having his usual doubts with what was expected of him. He wanted it to be perfect and he didn't want to end up feeling regret in the pit of his stomach, the regret he felt with Tom. He was fond of Alfred's company and hoped that this date would lead to more time spent with him, if it ended well. Arthur sighed, he was overthinking this. It was just a date, he shouldn't be worrying over it as much as he was. Either the connection between Alfred and him worked, or they went their separate ways. He began rummaging through his old notebooks preparing the design for the Queen's wedding anniversary, he needed to create an event that the Queen would approve of but his mind was still concentrated on the date. He didn't even know where he was going, all Alfred had told him was to dress nicely and that it was a dinner at about 7 pm. He didn't know if he should be the one to pay, or if Alfred would take up that responsibility, or that they would both split the bill. He didn't want to rely on intuition, so he, against his better judgment, decided to call Francis about one of the only subjects the Frenchman was useful in.

"What iz it?" Francis asked.

"I just wanted to ask...never mind."

"Non! Tell me!"

"..."

"Arthur? Are you zere?" a smirk spread across Francis' face, "does it 'ave to do with zat américain?"

"...Yes, I suppose, but just a bit. Come to my flat at eight tonight. I'm at work, so don't bother pestering me until then" Arthur hung up the phone and tossed it in his briefcase. He combed his fingers through his unruly hair, took a swig from his tea, and tried to immerse himself in his work. The preparations were coming along smoothly, all the orders were placed and shipped. He hurried down the corridors ready to give the preparations to his supervisor to have them approved.

"Kirkland, there you are, I was wondering when I would be getting these," he said.

"Sorry, sir, I've just been a little distracted recently but I can promise that it won't happen again," Arthur apologized. He handed the papers in and waited for his reaction.

"You're shaking, Kirkland."

"I am? I didn't notice...it must have been the coffee, yes, the coffee. I tried some and apparently it doesn't agree with me," Arthur managed to stumble out. "if that is all, I must be getting back to work, sir."

Arthur hurried back to his desk collapsed on the chair. His nerves had been eating him up ever since the date was presented to him. He finished the rest of his tea and tapped his fingers on the wood of the desk. The day continued on in cycles - Arthur would start his work then his mind would wander towards Alfred, until he would try to finish up his work. He sighed, he was acting like a teenage girl that had been asked on her very first date and he was certainly _not_ a teenage girl. But, he hadn't gone on a formal date for about two years, and hadn't had a relationship since Tom. Which Arthur preferred to not think about it and continued through the day distracting himself with his usual work tasks. He pushed through the long hours of work, avoiding any thought of Alfred. After what seemed like several long hours of agonizing torture Arthur finally got off of work.

Walking his way from the station, he arrived back inside of the lobby of his apartment. Using the elevator, and approaching his flat at the end of the hallway he saw someone leaning against the door. He squinted his eyes to peer at the person but could barely get a good look due to the dimmer lighting at the end of the hall. He considered turning back and asking the manager for assistance with the strange man near his door when he heard something.

"Arthur, is zat you?"

Arthur was exhausted after working from the early morning until nightfall and managed to forget about his meeting with Francis. "Ohnohnohnohnohnohn." A frown began to form on his face and he stormed over to where the man stood. 'I completely forgot about that French fool'

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, you bloody frog. Why didn't you call me when you got here?" he asked, pushing Francis away from his door long enough to bring out his keys and unlock the door.

When they entered the flat, it was completely dark except for the soft light leaking in from his curtains, and since Arthur preferred to conserve money it was almost as cold as it was out in the biting, autumn weather. He flicked the light switch on and turned back on the heat, snickering as Francis whined about the freezing temperature inside his flat.

"...someone would zink you are 'ousing a polar bear in 'ere, Arthur. 'ave you no 'eart? I was freezing in ze 'allway and I am freezing now! I don't zink I can even feel mes orteils (my toes)!"

"I'm sure you can deal with it for a little while longer, or are you that big of a _princesse_?" Arthur mocked, over exaggerating his French accent. Francis sat on the couch with his legs crossed and rubbing his arms in an attempt to get warm.  
"Even ze couch is cold!" the Frenchman hissed.  
"I don't want you to get too comfortable there, you're not staying for long," Arthur warned him giving him a threatening look.  
"Zen 'ow long am I staying? If _you_ need amour advice zen I'd would 'ave to stay ze night. At least," he paused, "who iz it? Ze américain? I 'ope you're not rekindling your "love" with zat Tom again."  
"God no, if anything I hate him more. I called you over here because I...I have a...dat - _meeting_ with that American, yes."  
"A date?"  
"...Yes."  
"When?"  
"Friday night."  
"Zat's tomorrow! I bet you 'ave no idea what you are doing!"  
"Why the bloody hell do you think I called you over here! You know what, I'll just handle it myself. I have enough experience to know what to do, yeah. I don't need your creepy tips!" Arthur scoffed.  
Francis raised an eyebrow and stood from the couch. He was shocked, Arthur never acted this hysterical especially when it came to something as simple as a date. Francis was sure Tom was the only other man Arthur had been with, granting Arthur little knowledge in the art of Romance. Although he had only exchanged a few words with Alfred in a supermarket, Francis deemed he was a good person, a simpleton, and probably naive, but a good person. He wanted his English friend to be happy, his last relationship breakup had cost Francis nearly 20 pounds in comfort ice cream and tea.  
"If you're sure about zis, zen I will leave," he started for the door, and nearly got there when he felt Arthur pull him back. Francis smirked at him.  
Arthur cleared his throat, "...I suppose I do need your help, just a bit though. I mean...I know the basics and all. So...just some things need clarification so don't get too comfortable!"  
Nevertheless, Francis sat back down on the couch, "Zen what do you need 'elp on? Clothing, 'ow to act, ze date in general?"  
"Now that I think about it...a little more help than just a bit."  
"You do know what you will be wearing? I 'ope it's not one of your disgusting sweaters."  
"What's wrong with them! I think they look nice!"  
"You were really planning on wearing zem? Mon dieu (My god), Arthur," Francis sighed. "I will just 'ave to pick somezing out for you. No friend of mine will be dressed as a sad librarian"  
"I don't dress like a sad librarian! What does it matter what I look like? He should care about my personality rather than my appearance especially if I want to wear my comfortable sweater vests."  
"Ah! Zat is where you are wrong mon ami. Your appearance is what sets ze first impression," Francis laughed while walking into Arthur's bedroom. He turned on the light and immediately started for the closet and was appalled at what he found neatly pressed on the hangers. "'ow many sweaters do you 'ave! Zis is 'ow a grand-père would dress."  
"G-Get out of my closet! I like the way I dress, it's comfortable and some of those suits are expensive, I don't want your grubby mits on them," Arthur snatched his sweater from Francis' grasp, "And this one happens to be my favorite."  
"Zat _thing_? It looks like the remains of a fat orangutan. Look at ze color! 'ow could you possibly buy zis? It isn't even flattering," Francis complained, throwing the sweater on the floor.  
"A fat orangutan? If it looks so monstrous then why don't you suggest what I wear?" Francis began rummaging through Arthur's closet tossing aside any piece of clothing that gave him displeasure. He was disappointed with Arthur, he truly believed his friend had a better sense in style and would refuse to wear anything that would make him looked like a hideous species of animal that had yet to be discovered by scientists.

He managed to find a decent outfit for Arthur hung in the back of his closet. It was a simple suit, not fancy but still a suit. It would have to do for now, none of Francis' clothes would fit Arthur and he doubted he would wear them nor did they have enough time to buy a new one. "Zis will do for now, mon dieu, Arthur when was the last time you wore zis it is so dusty."

Arthur looked at the suit, captured in his own nostalgia, it had been a cherished belonging of his that was kept hidden deep in his closet and protected from any harm. It was the suit that he wore when he had first met the queen, he hadn't had much money at the time to afford a brand name as he could now, but nonetheless she had complimented him on it. Arthur grabbed the suit and without a second thought he returned it to its rightful place, inside his closet.

"I'll wear it if that is the only thing you deem attractive."

Francis smiled, satisfied with Arthur's reaction. He was as nervous as Arthur was for his date with the American and couldn't afford any mishaps, which wouldn't look good for his reputation as a self-proclaimed love councilor. He needed Arthur to not only dress great but act as a proper gentleman would when he is on a date with a handsome man. Not the Arthur he knew that would criticize the poor man's appearance, grammar, and manners out of retaliation. This was a side of Arthur that made him come off as an uptight, detestable jerk with no sense of respect. Unfortunately Francis had the pleasure of coming across Arthur during one of his terrible fits and thought of him in the same manner. If Arthur acted the same way, there would be no hope for a second date. Francis couldn't allow that to happen and knew exactly what he had to do. He pulled out his phone dialed a set of numbers and put it to his ear.

"'Ello?"

"Who are you calling - "

"Sshh! Oui, I need you to come over quickly. Non I don't care, get over 'ere. Arthur's. I don't want any Indian food. Non...I said non! Arthur doesn't want any either!" he sighed and turned to Arthur, "Do you want any Indian food?"

"Who are you inviting to my house? I will not have it...Indian? Hmm, I am a bit peckish."

"Arthur doesn't want any food. Oui, au revoir." he hung up his phone and placed in his pocket.

"Will you please tell me who the bloody hell you invited over my house! Last time you didn't tell me there were several naked people running around my home and I had to sleep outside, it was very uncomfortable."

"Zat was for your birthday et you didn't plan on doing anyzing, as a good friend I planned a party. And zat was a year ago!"

"That was the worst birthday party I have ever had in my life. It's completely unforgivable. The only decent thing about it was the wine you brought from France."

"Do you still 'ave it?"

"Are you bloody kidding? I finished the bottle the moment you gave it to me, along with other bottles. I got the worst hangover."

"Oh that sounds terrible" Francis mocked.

"Shut up, git."

The sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the flat drowned out most of what Arthur was saying. He hurried to the door and peeked through the eyehole. He gave out an unhappy groan and opened the door.

"Antonio. Why are you here?" Arthur questioned as Antonio walked into Arthur's flat and made himself comfortable on his couch.

"You could tell me the same thing." asked the puzzled Spaniard devouring a huge plate of spicy curry. "I was just at home with mi novio (my boyfriend)then Francis called me over. Did something happen? You didn't poison him with your meatloaf again, did you?"

"I never poisoned him! It was just in a little overcooked thats all!"

"I'm sure it was, amigo," Antonio said sarcastically. Arthur threw him a nasty look.  
"Francis would you care to explain the meaning of all this?"  
"Of course. Frankly Arthur you need 'elp from both of us if you want to impress zat américain."  
"He shouldn't care how I act. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. Oh well, we'll move on," Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms. He didn't need to be coached by these two morons. He knew enough and Alfred shouldn't care if he wasn't some expert on love like them. It is just a date.  
"So what do I need to do amigo?"  
"Well we can all agree zat when Arthur gets grumpy he tends to be quite..." Francis paused searching for a word that wasn't too unpleasant, when he couldn't find one, he just said, "an angry, old, grouchy, screaming, caterpillar leprechaun man, non, _thing_."

"I will wring your hairy neck!"

"Prime example of an angry _thing_. Now we must get to business. In order to fix this zis petit issue Antonio must teach you 'ow to be a polite gentleman."

"Antonio?" Arthur scoffed, "A gentleman? Did you see him during the World Cup? He was a loon!"

"Hey! España won! I had a right to!"

"Now now let's try and get along. Arthur, Antonio can act like a gentleman when he wants to. I think it would be best if he helped you with your attitude."

With the three of them arguing back and forth and raising their volume to an unfathomable level it was a miracle they could hear Arthur's phone ring. They all stood silent wondering who could be calling this late at night. Arthur quickly ran to his phone and looked at the caller ID.

"It's... It's Alfred's number."

"What are you waiting for pick it up!" Francis urged.

Arthur snatched the phone from off of its platform and answered "Hello?"

"Arthur? It's me Alfred."

"Oh. Hello" he said trying to ignore Francis and Antonio's whispering and snickers.

"I was just wondering if the date is still on for tomorrow. I mean you said you had work and I don't want to make it a hassle for you, you know?"

"No tomorrow's fine Alfred." he mentally groaned, he sounded like he was on a business call.

"Be a little more enthusiastic Arthur" the Spaniard whispered.

"Is there someone there? I dunno, I hear someone. Could just be the T.V. maybe. What shows are you watching?" Alfred asked.

"I'm watching. . . . .Dr. Who."

"I never got that show, but it seems okay."

"I see. Well it's pretty late and-"

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"I'm gonna be honest here, I haven't had a date in a while and I'm sorta, you know... nervous. So I'm sorry if I might screw up some parts." England was surprised, he'd never think Alfred would be as inexperienced as he is.

"It's okay Alfred. I'm a bit nervous too."

"Really? Dude, you don't even know how relieved I am right now. Anyway you probably want to go back to watching T.V., and I have a paper to finish...so I'll see you tomorrow then! I'll pick you up at 7 o'clock sharp."


	5. Chapter 5: Their First Date

Chapter 5: Their First Date

Alfred ate his burger, taking massive bites. It was his second one, and still his nerves were everywhere. He thought food, normally burgers would calm him down but it had surprisingly no effect. His leg bounced up and down rapidly and in an offbeat rhythm. During his lectures he couldn't focus and instead of taking notes he'd find himself drawing pictures of stick figures with unusually large and fuzzy eyebrows. Arthur did have thick eyebrows, he had noticed, but they weren't unattractive on him. To Alfred, it only emphasized his eyes more. Alfred paused, his leg had stopped bouncing and he had put down his hamburger, he couldn't stop thinking of Arthur's captivating green eyes. Arthur wanted to be Alfred's friend, but then Alfred had to screw it up and ask him on a date. He could have been happy as Arthur's friend, but he would always want something more. But, he knew that something would go wrong on the date, he would end up doing something stupid like he always did and ruin everything. He liked Arthur, he wanted this date to move smoothly and it was up to him to make this happen.

He got up and threw away the wrappers of his late lunch and headed towards his motorcycle parked across the school's parking lot. He hopped on it, putting on all the appropriate gear and started it up, exiting the school and heading straight back to his flat. He arrived earlier than predicted and walked into his flat. He turned to his answering machine and saw that he had several new messages. He threw his backpack on the couch and pressed the button to listen to them.  
"First new message from (xxxx) xxx-xxxx on Friday November 10th at 1: 34 PM" voiced the answering machine. Alfred neglected to listen to the message, assuming it was from his family back home. He headed to the conjoining kitchen, opened his refrigerator and looked through its entire contents. There wasn't anything in it that he necessarily wanted, he had eaten most of the junk food it offered yesterday after he had called Arthur. He went back to the answering machine, looking lazily down at the numbers, waiting for the message from his mother to finish. It was just the same message she sent everyday - I love you, take care, do well in school. He'd have to call her back later and tell her about school and his recent assignments and maybe even mention Arthur. He deleted the message and went to the next one.  
"Next message from (xx) xxxx-xxx-xxxx on Friday October 5th at 3:45 PM" Alfred froze. That was Arthur's number. _Was he calling off the date?_

"Alfred? It's me, Arthur Kirkland. I guess you're not home. I was wondering what kind of place we were going to. Is it formal or casual dress? Can you call me back when you get this, at my mobile please. Have a good afternoon." the message ended. Alfred's heart was pounding. He immediately picked up the phone and dialed Arthur's number. The call rang several times, each one slower, and he almost thought Arthur wouldn't pick up.

"Hello?"

"..." Alfred didn't answer at first, he couldn't formulate any good sentences.

"Hello? Alfred is this you?"

"Yeah," it was the only word he could muster out.

"Do you know whether it is formal or casual dress?

"What?" Alfred had sincerely lost his train of thought.

"The restaurant. Is it formal or casual dress? I don't want to be underdressed if it's formal. I don't want to humiliate you or anything."

"You wouldn't embarrass me." Alfred said remembering why he called Arthur to begin with."I-It's casual dress well... it's a bit formal so wear what you usually do."

"Are you sure? My sweaters aren't very formal."

"No. I like your sweaters they're very...I don't know, cozy looking."

"You're just saying that to be polite, aren't you?"

"I really mean it. I love your sweaters"

"Oh...really? Thank you. I'll be sure to wear one tonight. I will see you then, Alfred."

"Bye" Alfred said and hung up his phone. He at the digital clock on the phone, there was only two more hours until he would have to pick Arthur up. He had to take a quick shower and dress before he left. He darted towards the bathroom, and took a very fast shower. He dried off and opened his drawers and closet for something decent to wear. It didn't have to be formal, but it couldn't be one of his usual t-shirts, he had to impress Arthur. When he settled on an outfit, one he rarely wore, he looked through his shoes - sneakers, sneakers, and more sneakers. He couldn't wear sneakers, it wouldn't fit with his outfit. _I have to have at least one pair of dress shoes. _He pulled out everything on the bottom shelf of his closet, in the process pulling out a cardboard box of trash he kept. Old pictures, ratty socks, car parts, and lying on the top was a decapitated rearview mirror. He picked it up and stared at it. _Wait a minute. This is..._ It was the mirror he ripped off a car one day, he didn't know why he kept it, it ended up in his lap when it came off and he never bothered to throw it away. Without a second thought he tossed it aside with the rest of his discarded belongings and continued his search for dress shoes.

He ended up with no dress shoes and having to wear his bright red sneakers with his outfit. He looked at his clock, he had about forty-five minutes until he had to pick up Arthur, just enough time to get flowers for him. He picked up the keys to his Ludwig's pick-up truck, he gave it to Alfred the day before so Arthur wouldn't feel too uncomfortable on a motorcycle. He drove to the closest flower shop and stared at all the choices, he should have asked Arthur beforehand what his favorite type of flower was. Alfred browsed the many options and decided to buy a bouquet of red roses with white roses in the center. He thanked the florist and left with a smile on his face, he was sure Arthur would like them. He jumped inside the pickup and drove off towards Arthur's apartment complex. He was even more ecstatic to learn he was exactly on time, seven o'clock precisely. He saw Arthur waiting on the front steps of his lobby in his usual get-up, a sweater and ironed trousers.  
Alfred slammed the door of the truck and hurried over to where Arthur stood with the flowers in his arms. Arthur smiled, happy to see that his date had arrived and with flowers. "You bought these for me? Thank you, I wasn't expecting it. They're beautiful. I just hope they don't die before I can get them water."

Alfred nodded dumbly, just glad he liked them and guided Arthur to the passenger seat then situated himself in the drivers' side. He turned the car on and drove off to the restaurant. Pulling into the restaurant's driveway, he parked his car and him and Arthur got out, taking the flowers with him. The moment they stepped in they were greeted by Feliciano's laughter.

"Alfred it's good to see you! This must be Arthur. It's good to see you again. Ve~ what nice flowers, Romano will get you some water to put those in."

"No," a grouchy voice said behind Feliciano. He looked exactly like him, only with darker coloring and a scowl on his face, "You do it, I had to do most of the cooking while you were with that German bastardo."

Arthur knew that glare, he had often seen the boy with Antonio. It was his Italian boyfriend, Lovino, who never stopped yelling at Antonio. He couldn't blame Lovino, Antonio was pretty irritating at times. Feliciano took the flowers from him,

"Si fratello, come this way. We picked a special booth in the back, I think you'll like it ve~" He led them to the back of the restaurant, past the people dining and talking in the main section and to one of the spread out red booths. "Here are your menus. A waiter will come back for your orders."

"He seems like a real nice chap," Arthur commented, skimming through the menu.

"He is, he always brings food around and I don't think I've ever seen him in a bad mood. He really balances out my boss," Alfred laughed. Arthur nodded and took a piece of bread from the small basket positioned at the center of the table. Alfred twiddled his thumbs under the table, searching for anything to start a conversation, "...So, what's your favorite flower? I wasn't sure which ones to get."

"Actually it's the rose, the bouquet you got. Although many people are quite fond of the rose so it probably wasn't that difficult to choose."

"Oh good, I thought I'd mess up or something and the lady there suggested roses."

"They're exquisite, I've never received flowers from anyone before."

"Really? Not even that Tom guy in the market?" Alfred asked, "he was kinda a jerk, if you don't mind me saying that."

"Haha! No. I've never received any roses from him. I guess he is a bit a jerk" Arthur laughed. "So you're going to University?" Alfred nodded in reply "What are you studying?"

"I'm try to get my M.D. so I can be a doctor"

"A doctor? Doesn't it take about 8 years?"

"I skipped a few years," Alfred paused, he didn't want it to come off as boasting to Arthur, "I guess I knew a little more than my classmates, but it's not like it matters or anything. I'm just happy to be almost done with school."

Arthur felt guilty, he never pictured Alfred to be studying for a M.D. and was completely surprised by the fact that he was smart enough to skip years. "That's fantastic, Alfred. Really it is, you should be proud."

Alfred looked down at the menu, "Yeah...so what are you getting? I'm kinda in the mood for pizza, but they make really good spaghetti. I think I might get both." England smiled, Alfred's constant eating had amused him, he hadn't met anyone before him who could eat so much food and still be hungry. He proceeded to browse the menu and decided on Eggplant Parmesan while Alfred decided on the spaghetti, pizza, and lasagna.

The date went better than Alfred planned, he hadn't touched on a subject that Arthur disliked nor offended him. Arthur kept in a pleasant mood, and talked about their common interest of European football, he even shared part of Alfred's pizza, though he was sure the American could finish the three dishes himself. Alfred would talk about Florida and his family, leaving room for Arthur to talk about growing up in England, it was strange for them to hear about growing up in another country even the small details shocked them such as the weather and television shows and jokes. They were so engrossed in their conversation they hadn't noticed the waiter's presence taking their dishes and placing the bill on the table.

"I insist I pay," Arthur reached for the check, but Alfred quickly grabbed it from him knocking over a glass of water onto Arthur's front soaking his shirt and pants. Alfred was completely mortified, he knew something bad would happen and of course it had to be when the date was going so well. He just drenched his date in ice cold water and he took Arthur's silence as a horrible sign. However, rather than upset Arthur was in shock, it happened so fast he hadn't actually realized what happened until he saw Alfred's traumatized face. He took a napkin from the table and tried using it to absorb all the water in his sweater but it was completely unsuccessful. Alfred paid the bill and gave it to the waiter nearby. He quickly stood up and shrugged off his warm jacket and placed it on to Arthur's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to - I just wanted to, never mind. I could get your shirt dry cleaned if you need it, I feel really bad, dude," Alfred apologized. Arthur wasn't angry, he was a little peeved that his clothes were wet especially when it was so cold outside but he couldn't blame Alfred for trying to be a gentleman. He was actually quite charmed by him and would even consider going on another date.

"I know, you can come over to my place and I can give you some clothes to change into. It's not too far from here and I can't just let you freeze like that, English weather is like the coldest thing ever if you hadn't noticed," Alfred said.

Arthur nodded and followed Alfred into his car. It wasn't until they left the parking lot that Arthur realized he was being asked to come over Alfred's place. He was unbearably nervous. He hadn't been at in this kind of situation in a while and wasn't sure where it would go. He liked Alfred but couldn't see themselves going **that **far on their first date, it had happened with Tom and he regretted it. His breathing hitched and mistaking this for shivers Alfred turned on the heat to full blast which only made things worse for the poor Englishman.

"Annnnnd," Alfred dragged out while turning the corner, "we're here!"  
It was a standard building, about 7 stories high and made of old brick and twisting iron railing. Alfred parked the car.  
"Wait here I'll hold the elevator so you're not cold" Alfred said darting toward his elevator, pressing the button and waiting by it. Arthur pulled the jacket closer and looked towards Alfred but instead spotted a familiar looking motorcycle parked right next to the car. He squinted to get a better glimpse of it in the dim lighting and recognized it. It was the same motorcycle that ripped off his mirror, the cyclist lived in Alfred's building. Alfred quickly returned and without warning he picked Arthur up, shut the car door and ran into the elevator. He put Arthur on the floor and pressed a button. Arthur stood still in the corner of the elevator while Alfred hit the button to the 4th floor. He stared at the sleeves of the jacket trying not to look at the American, he couldn't want to take it to this level on the first date, could he? No, Alfred was better than that and probably had good intentions, Arthur reassured himself and gave Alfred the benefit of the doubt. Alfred turned to look at Arthur in the midst of his thoughts, he was never more captivated by anyone. Arthur's face was beautiful, his eyes were gorgeous, his eyebrows were adorable, and his lips were trembling from the cold of the water and the unheated elevator. Alfred took two steps towards Arthur, gaining the quivering Englishman's attention. Arthur stared into Alfred's eyes and Alfred stared back into Arthur's until without noticing they had been only a few centimeters apart. A blush spread across both of their cheeks and instead of closing the distance Alfred ruffled Arthur's hair and pecked his cheek. Arthur had wished for more.  
The elevator doors opened and Alfred unlocked the door to his flat. Arthur had almost expected it to be a mess of a place and wasn't surprised when he saw papers lying near the computer, popcorn littered in front of the television, and dirty clothes everywhere.  
"Sorry about the mess, I wasn't really expecting company." Alfred laughed nervously and kicked some of the clothes under the couch. Alfred headed towards his room motioning Arthur to follow him. Alfred walked towards his closet and pulled out a dozen shirts and pants until he could find ones that could properly fit Arthur's small figure.  
"Here," Alfred said handing Arthur the clothes "You can change in my bathroom if you want."  
"Okay. Thank you Alfred" he said and walked into the bathroom. He contained a laugh at the clothes Alfred had given him, a large shirt with the American flag printed across it and baggy sweatpants. He hastily put them on and walked out of the bathroom, his wet clothes folded and held in his arms. He searched for Alfred but he was nowhere in sight. He went to look in the front room when he nearly tripped over a hard metal object. He cussed and looked down to see a car part. He didn't think much of it a first, seeing that Alfred had worked in a car shop but with a closer inspection he saw that it was a rearview mirror. He picked it up and looked at it. _That's funny it looks like... _He suddenly realized it was same rearview mirror he was missing, the same model and color. Not only did he find the mirror in Alfred's room he also stumbled upon the brown leather jacket with a white 50 printed boldly on the back. _Alfred was the motorcyclist? That- that bloody arse hole! He kept this just to mock me didn't he? _  
"Arthur have you finished changing?" Alfred asked blindly walking into a furious Englishman's fit.  
"You arse! What the hell is this?" Arthur exclaimed, showing the mirror to Alfred, "Did you just keep this to mock me? Maybe fit in a nice pun about my driving skills? Or is this some kind of revenge on your classmates? Can't take it out on them so you take it out on me?"  
"What are you..? That was your car? I didn -"  
"You didn't know? Of course you didn't, you're the bastard working on my bloody car how could you not know! I know you Americans have a cruel taste in humor, but you've taken this joke too far, Jones."  
"Arthur, don't be like this. You know I didn't me-"  
"Sod off," Arthur brushed past Alfred, "And it's Mr. Kirkland to you."

He heard Alfred's footsteps coming after him, so he sped up running through the flat and down the lobby. He heard Alfred calling after him, not far behind, he ran out through the front doors of the lobby, too consumed with the rage of being duped to care about how he appeared. He stormed into a convenience store across the street and hid in the unsanitary bathroom. He wanted to cry but he knew it wasn't the right place to do it. He pulled out his phone from his the pocket of his drenched pants and called Francis.

"So 'ow did it go?"

"P-Pick me up now." Arthur demanded, his voice already breaking. He gave the Frenchman his location and waited until he arrived. When he had, Arthur jumped into his car and let out his pent up sobs.

"Mon ami! What 'appened?"

"I liked him Francis, I truly did but he-" Arthur was cut off by his own crying.

"Oh non. Mon petit caterpillar what did he do?" Francis inquired but Arthur would not tell, they remained quiet and Francis did not try asking again. Instead he quietly dropped Arthur in front of his flat and waited until he saw the light turn on in Arthur's flat.


	6. Chapter 6: Once Again

Chapter 6: Once Again

Alfred rung Arthur's phone ever since the date. Whether it be his home or mobile, he left countless voicemails apologizing. Arthur had yet to respond. He had yet to tell Francis and Antonio his reason for ignoring Alfred which left them wondering and eventually nagging and begging for him to tell them. They could only assume their friend had a good reason for being so angry with Alfred, who, in their eyes, seemed like a gentleman. Alfred himself was quite confused and frustrated with Arthur, he believed Arthur was reasonable and would at least listen to what he had to say before storming off. Unless he had upset him before they arrived at Alfred's house.  
He had spent time going over what he could have possibly done to Arthur throughout the date aside from spilling water and going so far as to come up with fake scenarios. He had become attached to Arthur, more so than he would have liked and he didn't want their relationship to end so easily. He didn't even realize that the rearview mirror could have belonged to Arthur, and if he had been able to explain it to Arthur it could have been resolved. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, starting to dial the phone again.

Eight rings before he was left talking to the voicemail again. He couldn't bare it any longer all he wanted was for Arthur to just pick up the phone and to say something. Anything, even if it was just yelling. He left his voicemail restating the usual message asking Arthur to call him back so they could talk it over. He glanced at his clock, it was 11: 35 which meant he had to be at work in less than an hour. He put on his jacket and walked out of his apartment, ready for work. He walked down his stairs, hopped onto his motorcycle and drove off towards Ludwig's garage. He arrived there just on time and would have been their earlier if it wasn't for the small detour he took because of his distracting thoughts of Arthur. No matter how much he tried to, Alfred couldn't get Arthur out of his head.

He walked towards Ludwig's office, and knocked on the door.

"Yes. Who vis it?" Alfred heard from the office behind a series of Italian giggles.

"It's Alfred. Is there anything you need me to fix?"

"Yes. I'll be out in a minute... Feliciano not here. I have to work." the German said, struggling with his Italian lover.

The door swung open and Ludwig looked at him with a frown, and documents in his hand. He scanned down the page then handed it to Alfred, "you still haven't finished that man's car. Mr. A. Kirkland, ja?"

Alfred sighed, he had been putting off completing the car, sure it would wreck his weekly salary but if he was finished with the car, then his relationship with Arthur would be through. He couldn't end like this. But this was his job, he had no other choice but to finish the car so Arthur would have to meet him. It'd be painful, he knew, Arthur would pay then drive off and never see Alfred again for the stupid reason of a rearview mirror. If only he had gotten rid of the mirror or if he put the pieces together this would have never happened. They'd be planning their second date hopefully, and Arthur would be answering his calls.

He trudged over to the car and stared at it. It was nearly done, all that was needed was the mirror was and a new paint job to smooth over the scratches. The glared at it, hoping his scowls would cause it to be destroyed again then he would have to call Arthur about it, and then he would have to listen to Alfred.

"How was your date?" a high voice rang behind Alfred.

He put on his best smile and turned around, prepared to lie. "It was great, that's for letting us come to your restaurant, Feliciano."

The Italian smiled back, but for only a moment, "what happened ve~? It's very noticeable when you lie."

Alfred let the facade drop, "Oh it is? The date went fine, it's just that Arthur - I must have done something, it's not his fault, to make him mad or something."

"Has he talked to you? When Ludwig gets mad at me I go over to his office with food and cheer him up ve~! Have you tried that?"

"Arthur would kill me if I went to his work, and probably call me a stalker," Alfred said. It was a good idea to see him at work, Arthur wouldn't be able to cause a scene or ignore him. "I have his shoes that he left at my place, though. I could go see him now!" A huge grin decorated Alfred's face as he hugged Feliciano, "Thank you, dude! Could you tell Ludwig I'll be back in an hour or two?"

He didn't wait for an answer and ran to the truck. There was barely any to no traffic at all, the only problem was he didn't know where Arthur worked. He said he had worked for the queen, so maybe in a castle? He scrunched up his face trying to remember the name of the place she lived, Ham palace? No, but it sounded familiar. Buckingham, that was it. He drove down the streets and stopped at a separate gate at the back of the palace. He climbed out of his truck with Arthur's shoes in hand and smiled at the security guards.

"Identification?"

"I don't have it on me, but I work for Mr. Kirkland. I'm here to drop his shoes off," Alfred said with confidence.

One of the guards went inside the door, leaving Alfred face to face with the other.

Arthur sat at his desk, going through papers and typing furiously on his computer. There was only a few more days until all the preparations had to be in and accounted for. He was about to send an important email to the florist when he heard a knock at his door.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Kirkland, there is someone at the back gate wanted to see you, says he works for you," a security guard said.

"Does he have an ID?" Arthur asked.

"No, but he says he has your shoes. Should we send him away?"

Arthur got up from his desk and followed the guard, "no that won't be necessary."

Francis did always tend to forget his ID, and if he had Arthur's shoes then there wasn't a doubt he would have to let the Frenchman in. After running from Alfred's apartment, Arthur left his shoes there and Francis had offered to get him a replacement pair to comfort him. He hadn't expected the frog to follow through since he never had before. They arrived at the guard house waiting for them to bring in Arthur's visitor. Arthur was impatient he needed to finish his plans, and Francis was taking his sweet time.

The doors opened and to his surprise the Frenchman didn't enter but instead in his place was Alfred. Arthur was shocked. The last thing he would expect would be for Alfred to come to his work, to Buckingham Palace. He was at first rather bewildered but he soon became embarrassed by the American's bold appearance.

"Leave us," Arthur said to the security guards, "I'll take care of this." The two security guards left the room one after another.

"What are you doing here, Jones?"Arthur crossed his arms.

"Arthur I-I brought your shoes. You left them at my house and-"

"Thank you, you may leave them at the door on your way out."

"But I wanted - "

"At the door."

"This is ridiculous! Why can't you let me explain my part?"

"I've already heard your excuses I-"

"Dammit Arthur! Just let me explain and then you can decide whether or not you'll forgive me."

One of the guards opened the door, "Do you need him to leave?" Arthur was pissed at Alfred and wanted him to leave but deep down inside he knew he should listen. He made up his mind, he would listen to what Alfred had to say and then he'd ask him to leave. He couldn't have the American wandering around his work, and his excuse would probably be a predictable one _"I didn't mean it" "I'm sorry"_. Something Tom would said to him often and he would forgive him.

"No it's fine he isn't bothering me." The guard nodded and left the room. "Fine. You may explain."

"I never would have imagined you were the one driving that car. When we were on that date I was enjoying myself and had a lot of fun. I know you're upset at me for taking off your rearview mirror and keeping it, but I just fell on my lap and I forgot to throw it away. If it means that much to you I'll attach it back on and pay for the cost of the repairs. It wasn't a comment on your driving, hell I drive like a homicidal maniac." Arthur couldn't help but laugh. "you don't have to say anything now, but call me if you have the time, I hope you can forgive me." Alfred left the room, dropping the shoes at the door, without giving Arthur a chance to speak hoping to avoid any rejection.

Arthur gaped at him. He hadn't expected that sort of apology, of course he wasn't used to apologies in general. He was relieved, in a way, that Alfred had no similarities with Tom and had turned out to be the gentleman Arthur had always thought he would be. He walked over and picked up his shoes, he was entirely persuaded to forgive Alfred, but he didn't have the best judgement. He would have to discuss it with Francis and Antonio. He'd have to return to his work for now. He walked into his office and sat back in his chair._ It's going to be hard focusing on my work. _It was very difficult for Arthur to continue his work without thinking of Alfred or about what he'll say to him. He now felt extremely stupid for being angry in the first place. Alfred deserved better.

The end of the work day approached and he could already see Francis leaning on his parked car outside waiting for Arthur. He hurriedly packed all his things in his briefcase and hurried out the back gate. Francis got into the drivers' side and he could see Antonio sitting in the passenger's seat.

"What took so long, amigo? You know we have pub night tonight."

"Oui! Why are you so slow?" said Francis while fixing his hair in the middle rearview mirror. Arthur got inside the car looking a little uneasy, he didn't know how to explain his situation without looking like a jerk.

"I know...I was just thinking about the situation with Alfred," Arthur admitted.

Antonio turned around, "I thought you forgot about him?"

"He came to the palace today to drop off my shoes"

"What? Ze palace? Zat was very a bold move. Aw! But ow romantic. oh but ze security, 'ow did 'e manage zat?"

"It doesn't matter. He apologized to me, but I'm not sure about it. I don't know what to say to him."

"Well you haven't actually told us the entire story amigo." Arthur dreaded this part. He knew he'd have to tell them and he knew they wouldn't be very happy. During the entire journey to the pub plus the first few minutes they had arrived Arthur had told them about everything. Most of it told with a red face and in mumbles.

"You were angry because he had your rearview mirror? That's stupid. I thought it was because he tried to do _that_ with you or something."

"No, no. He would never - are your minds always in the gutter?" Arthur asked.

"Oui, but so is yours. Et you're wondering if you should forgive 'im? You should, ze poor homme must be zinking 'e did somezing terrible to you!" Francis said.

"This just proves how touchy you can be around men. Ever since Tom. We told you to stay away from him." Antonio spoke taking another sip from his drink of tequila.

"I see. He asked me to call him, I was thinking I should. Now? Or when I get home?"

"I zink now, before you become completely pissed like you always do, mon ami. Et we want to listen." Arthur pulled out his phone, tempted to lie and say it was out of battery. He went outside then dialed Alfred's home number and pressed talk. He waited what seemed like forever for Alfred to pick up, when he did Arthur's heart stopped.

"Arthur? You really called!" Alfred practically shouted into the phone, "Have you thought about what I said?"

"Yes, I want to say I'm sorry I overreacted it was silly of me to. I'm willing to look past everything if you are."

"Of course I am! A million times, you have no idea how happy I am now, I would hug you right now if I could. Are you busy this week?"

"Unfortunately yes, I have to finish up and supervise a shipment of arrangements coming in"

"That's okay, work is work."

"I don't think I'll be too busy on monday." Alfred suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"I'm almost done with your car, you could come over and pick it up then and maybe" Alfred's voice quieted, "if you're up to it, we could plan another date."

"Yes. I would love that."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

Arthur woke up an hour earlier in order to pick up his car, he determined if the bus was on time he would arrive at the shop precisely on time. He put on his favorite sweater and carried a bag of Alfred's borrowed clothing. He walked out of the lobby and ran to the bus stop just as it pulled up. The bus ride was short, shorter than he had hoped for and he was nervous. It was mostly his own fault for the fight between them and he was sure Alfred knew it but was only acting kindly. The bus dropped him off only a block from the shop, an easy distance to walk. He approached the garage and could see Alfred leaning against a railing talking and laughing to the Italian restaurant owner he had seen on the date. He was absolutely handsome looking, wearing a plain white shirt and covered in car oil.

Arthur forgot the reason he initially came to the car shop. He took a deep breath preparing himself for his confrontation with the American. Even though they had talked it over on the phone it was still very awkward. Arthur collected himself and started over to where Alfred stood. Alfred saw Arthur approaching him and smiled.

"You made it!" Alfred smiled. He pat Arthur's back and led him to where his car was, "I fixed her up as fast as I could. See, it's even got your old rearview mirror!"  
Arthur smiled, "Thank you, it looks brand new." Alfred grabbed a clip-board with some papers on it and brought to Arthur. Arthur looked it over. He was confused.  
"Alfred didn't the cost of the repairs cost more than this?"  
"Yeah but the repairs for the rearview mirror was taken out of my pay," Alfred replied nonchalantly.  
"Alfred. You didn't have to do that. I'll pay you as compensation."  
"Please don't. I was happy to pay for the damage," Alfred looked at Arthur with a gleam in his eye. Arthur gave him a broad smile, Alfred was extremely considerate. Arthur decided not to press on the matter any longer, he knew no matter how hard he would try Alfred would still insist on paying.  
"Arthur?" Alfred called looking up at Arthur who handed him back the clip-board.  
"Yes?"  
"I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere this Friday? I-If you're off of work."  
"Yeah I'm off where'd you want to go?"  
"Have you ever been to the London Eye? I have two Fast Track tickets..."  
"The London Eye? I can't remember the last time I ever went on that. I'd love to go."  
"I was thinking we could go on and get something to eat afterwards."  
"That sounds great, fantastic actually," Arthur was excited and couldn't wait.

"Did you want me to pick you up?"

"No I don't want to trouble you plus I haven't driven for a while and I should probably get back into the habit of it."

"Okay then I'll meet you there. Let me just show Ludwig the paperwork and I'll see you off." Alfred knocked on his boss's door.

"Come in." Alfred entered the room closing the door behind him. Arthur was glad he had confided in his friends and decided to listen to them. He couldn't wait until him and Alfred would ride inside the London Eye, it would be very romantic. He leaned against his car and stared at floor, smirking at the thought of Alfred's kindness. Arthur had never been treated so nicely before and knew that all Alfred's words came from his heart. He was so deep in thought that hadn't seen Alfred coming out of Ludwig's office.

Alfred leaned against the car next to Arthur, wanting to say something about the date. He was glad Arthur had accepted his apology and even more thrilled when they had agreed to a second date. To know Arthur had forgiven him and that he was willing to continue their relationship lifted a weight off his chest and he couldn't help but have a goofy smile on his face. His excitement for it was building up and he didn't think he could contain himself. He wanted to hug Arthur, to express his feelings but he couldn't articulate it through words.

"Arthur?"

"Yes? I was just thinking-" Arthur began but his words were cut off when Alfred had moved his head close to Arthur's making their heads only a few centimeters apart, startling him. Alfred looked into Arthur's eyes waiting for the understood approval to close the distance. Arthur closed his eyes and moved slightly closer. Alfred proceeded to take the initiative and tilted his head until their lips finally touched. It was short lasting, both awkward to feeling but the intimate touch of the other lingered on them. They quickly pulled apart, both blushing red. Arthur smiled softly, he was very new to this but the short kiss with Alfred felt _right. _As if they fit together. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and couldn't concentrate on the right words to describe it. He positively sure of one thing, Alfred was perfect for him.


	7. Chapter 7: 50

Chapter 7: 50

If Arthur was nervous for his first date with Alfred then he was acting absolutely hysterical for his second one. He couldn't help but think Alfred believed Arthur was an angry man with a ridiculously short temper who only wanted to go on a second date to be polite. Arthur himself didn't even know why he became so furious with Alfred over something as simple as a rearview mirror, it was quite childish now that he thought about it. He decided his past relationship had left a more lasting imprint on him than he would have liked, causing him to distrust even the nicest people. Alfred had always had good intentions from the moment he met him, granted Arthur barely knew him a month, but Alfred had never caused Arthur to doubt him. Arthur frowned, there was no reason to doubt Alfred in the first place, it was just an overreaction that unfortunately ruined their first date. Nevertheless, he was set on making it up during the second date. He had stayed up the night before planning how he would act and how he would try to resolve situations that could be a threat to their date. He was going to act gentlemanly (as if he wasn't already) and not become angry over any small matters. He would take on the duty of paying for the meal since Alfred had already paid for the tickets and he'd try his best to maintain his temper.  
He sat on his bed, in his pajamas working on the event for the queen. Once that was out of the way he could focus all of his attention on the date. Of course, he still had piles of work to finish up. Arthur squinted at his computer screen, it was too bright and his eyes were burning from staring at it for nearly three hours reviewing and supervising every small detail. He rubbed them and looked at the digital clock perched on his bedside table. _3:20 am_ it read, Arthur audibly groaned and shut his laptop. He was tired from a long day of nonstop work, but he doubted he would be able to sleep with the constant thoughts of Alfred and the London Eye.

Arthur smiled softly and threw the covers over his head. He supposed there would be other people in the gondola with them, but to him it would just be the two of them. He had only been on the infamous Ferris wheel twice, once with his mother when he was younger, then again by himself. Only this time he wouldn't be with himself, or forced to go on the tall wheel kicking and screaming as a child, he would be with Alfred.

He didn't know how he managed to drift off to sleep, he could only guess it was from the utter exhaustion he had to face for the entire week. It was approaching nine am when he woke up, groggy from his sleep he began his Friday ritual - he took his shower to fully wake him, dressed in a sweater and slacks, and cooked (burnt) his breakfast. It wasn't until he was reading the paper with a cup of tea in hand did he realize he had a date. He tried his best not to let the thought harm his daily routine. However, no matter how hard he tried every word he read on the newspaper would not register. He turned the page grumbling in agitation, unconsciously he had promised himself he would read and comprehend at least one line from the newspaper. He stared at it and began to recite a sentence over and over aloud.

"All are awaiting François Hollande's visit to England, many preparations have been made in Buckingham Palace for his much anticipated arrival." he paused scanning over the words once more "François Hollande's visit to England..." Arthur felt like a fool the entire section was about the newly elected French President's visit to the Buckingham Palace, the exact event Arthur had been planning for last week or so. He folded up the paper and placed it on the table. He picked up his cup and held it to his lips, taking a sip from his unsweetened tea. The contact between the cup and his lips suddenly jolted the memory of the kiss he shared with Alfred. What if Alfred tried kissing him again? What if it was while they were in the Gondola with other people? What if it turned out he was a bad kisser? What if he couldn't appeal to Alfred's expectations? Arthur became deeply concerned. He couldn't bear the thought of Alfred being dissatisfied with Arthur. He remembered Tom always critiquing his every movement from his basic mannerisms to the times they shared to together in bed. Arthur sighed, he was just overreacting, he knew Alfred wouldn't stoop that low. He's was much too different from Tom. Arthur smiled, he was happy Alfred had taken off his rearview mirror. He sat in his chair devoting the rest of his thoughts entirely to Alfred and their date.

He returned his cup back to its original place on his table and glanced at his watch. It was already noon and he promised to meet Alfred at one o'clock. He gave his dishes a quick scrub and headed out his door taking his keys with him. As he was just a short distance from his garage when his cell phone began to vibrate. He took it out of his pocket and reluctantly answered it.

"What do you want Francis?"

"It's not Francis amigo but if you want I can put on a ridiculous French accent while I talk about my lovely luscious blonde locks," Antonio said mocking Francis in an absurd French accent. Arthur opened his garage with his clicker and approached his car. He stepped into his garage, unlocked his car door, and climbed in.

"Zat is not funny you stupid Spaniard! Now give me zat phone!" Arthur heard Francis shout from the background. "Now mon petit caterpillar 'ave you decided to join us tonight for another round of pub?" Francis inquired while Arthur slowly back out of his garage. It suddenly dawned on Arthur that he hadn't informed his friends of his date with Alfred. All he mentioned was that there was no more conflict between the two and that they were continuing their relationship.

"I can't I-I have a date with Alfred."

"A date? Arthur why 'aven't you told us about zis? I am tres upset. Where is 'e taking you?"

"London Eye," Arthur hesitated. He wasn't so sure if he should have told them the exact whereabouts.

"Should we follow them?" Antonio whispered.

"We 'ave nothing else to do." Francis replied.

"If I see you two anywhere near that area I will call the police and report that I saw two suspicious people." Arthur hung up his phone in a fit of rage. He was looking forward to this date and he didn't want them screwing it up. He took another look at his watch, he was making good time. He had 45 minutes left and was at least half an hour away.

He stopped at the florist two blocks from his house. It wasn't a large or exquisite flower shop, one that he would order from for his job, but a small, homely one. The flowers were always fresh and he had barely found any blemish on any of the petals. Although he never bought from them often (only for Mother's day or for birthdays), it was one of his favorites. The flower arrangements were simple, but at the same time romantic. Arthur thought it would be perfect for Alfred who seemed like the type to hate being fussed over. He browsed the flowers of the small shop looking over the roses, lilies, and orchids. They were all nice choices, but he didn't have any clue onto which flower Alfred would like. He didn't think the boy had received flowers from a date before, only giving them, and doubted Alfred had much of a care towards flowers. He stopped at a section of roses. No one could really go wrong with roses, he assumed, and looked through it. He passed many colors and shades of them, the traditional red roses down to the innocent white ones. The only color he thought Alfred would like would be the yellow ones with the light red tips. He ordered a dozen of them, paid, and brought the flowers safely into his car.

Arthur started his car for the south of London. He didn't suspect there would be much traffic since he left early, but he was unfortunately mistaken. Not even halfway to his destination he sat in bumper to bumper traffic. He groaned and leaned his head back on the headrest, the traffic report didn't say anything about the traffic clearing anytime soon. He would have to wait it out and risk being late to the date. Alfred would probably get there first, assuming he would take his motorcycle instead of the company car, he could just drive through the cars and get to the large Ferris wheel in no time at all.

The traffic was still barely moving near the halfway point. Arthur glanced at the digital clock in his car, he saw he had twenty minutes until their date would begin. He had dreaded doing this, but in this current situation there was no other way possible if the traffic didn't start clearing soon. Arthur took his phone out of the cupholder and dialed Alfred's number.

"Arthur?"

"Yes. About the date today -"  
"You're still coming right?" Alfred asked, cutting Arthur off.  
"Of course I am, but there is a lot of traffic so I might not make it on time. I'm sorry this was supposed to be perfect."  
"It's fine. I don't mind waiting for a bit, I was just worried you might cancel on me. I wouldn't want to ride the Ferris wheel without you. I don't care if you're late. As long as you show up I'm fine."  
"I would never stand you up," Arthur replied.  
"I just thought you would be called into work, I heard from Francis that you have a big assignment coming up and all."  
"I took care of it all last night," Arthur then more quietly said, "so there is more time to spend with you" Alfred smiled.  
"When I see you I'm going to hug you and I'll never let you go." Arthur blushed profusely. He had never been told that by anyone and it made him happy. After a long pause Arthur spoke up once again.  
"Where are you at the moment? Are you in front of the Eye?"  
"No I'm in McDonald's working on an essay"  
"In McDonald's?" Arthur questioned. He was sure there are more sanitary places for Alfred to write his essay. "Well if that's where you're most comfortable. Did you want me to meet you there?"  
"No, we'll meet in front of the Ferris wheel like we said, just call me when you're there or I'll look for you."  
Arthur smiled, then turn his attention back to the road, "The traffic is starting to clear up, so I might not be as late as I thought. I'm going to go, but I'll be sure to call when I get there. I'll see you soon."  
"Alright, I'm looking forward to that hug, Artie!"  
Arthur hung up the phone, Artie? He hadn't been called many nicknames, no make that many flattering nicknames. He wasn't sure if he liked the name but it would do. He was making progress towards his destination, seeing the Ferris wheel in sight and suspected he would be there in no time. Of course he was fifteen minutes late from the agreed time, but Alfred was fine with it.  
Soon enough he was nearing the base of the large Ferris wheel and looking around for a parking spot. He ended up having to park far off from his desired location due to all the cars already parked, and half of the street clogged with cars. He didn't know why there were so many people today, he could only guess it was tourists. He grabbed the roses from the passenger seat and pulled out his cell phone while walking to the base of the Ferris wheel. He spotted the McDonald's Alfred would have been eating in and called his number. He waited for him to pick up but there was no answer. Thinking nothing of it, he started towards the cross walk. When he got to the other side, there was no sign of Alfred. Arthur began to worry, maybe his phone ran out of battery or there was some kind of incident at Ludwig's Garage that he needed to attend to. He found himself making many excuses for the American's absence, Arthur slipped his phone back in his pocket. Alfred was probably still in McDonald's working on his essay and couldn't hear his phone go off, Arthur could easily find him. He turned the corner to the front of the Ferris wheel only to be met with a large crowd of people.  
He hadn't expected there to be a crowd, or at least for so many people to want to go on the wheel. He began to wait, only to see the crowd spread into the street huddled around something. Arthur rolled his eyes, Alfred must be in there somewhere trying to see what all this commotion was about. Arthur pushed past people, searching for the golden haired American. He held the flowers close to his body as he tried pushing to the front, careful to not damage any of its petals.

He finally got to the front of the crowd where all the people had been blocked off by yellow barricade tape. He saw police shooing people away so they wouldn't catch sight of the gruesome scene laid in front of Arthur's eyes. A bus was stationed not too far off along with a paramedics car. Arthur stood to his full height while trying to peer over the officer's arm, to get a better look at who the victim was but it was no use. He was about to head the other way to look for Alfred until he overheard a conversation between two bystanders.

"Poor bloke. What the hell was he doing in the middle of the street anyway?" said an Englishman from the crowd.  
"He was waiting for someone I think. Probably thought he saw them across the street, he ran over. Typical bloody American," the other replied with little sympathy present in his voice.

Arthur felt sick, he took his phone out and frantically dialed Alfred's number. He hoped, just hoped that maybe Alfred would pick up his phone and tell him he was okay and that he was still at McDonald's. Anything but what he was facing. Only several yards away, he heard the shrill ring of Alfred's phone, he began to follow the sound but stopped when he found it was coming from beyond the yellow tape. He slipped underneath the tape without anyone noticing and collapsed at the injured body. It wasn't until he saw who the person was that he began to cry, his body shook violently as he let out multiple sobs. He dropped the flowers so that their discarded petals fell into blood. He clutched at Alfred's number 50 jacket, desperate for some movement, even just a sound.

"_Alfred!"_


	8. Chapter 8: Guilty

Chapter 8: Guilty

The medics surrounding the scene had tried to pry Arthur away from the body, but his hands were locked on Alfred. He knew he would have let go, but through his blurry vision he could see some signs of life in Alfred, he had small short breaths and his fingers were trembling. And with those signs in mind he refused to let go.  
"Please sir, you'll only make it worse. If we don't get him to a hospital he'll surely bleed to death. Sir are you listening?" one of medics warned. A police officer was called over and pulled him off Alfred and held him back, despite his struggles. It gave them enough time to load Alfred on a stretcher and into the ambulance.  
"W-Where are they taking him? Which hospital? Please, I need to know," Arthur begged.  
"Please sir you need to calm down. Now are you hurt anywhere?" the officer asked. Arthur shook his head, he didn't want to be there any longer, he wanted to be with Alfred. He started back toward his car, bumping into numerous people and nearly running into cars. When he was nearing the crosswalk he felt hands pull him back. He turned around furiously.  
"Francis? What are you doing here? Let go I have to follow that ambulance." he glared.  
"I know what 'appened. You're not in ze right mind operate a vehicle" Francis said.  
"Why the hell should I listen to you right now?" Arthur questioned, with bitterness present in his voice. "Are you telling me I shouldn't see him?"  
"Zat is exactly what I am saying. They will throw you out if you continue acting zis way. Calm down for a moment and I will take you to 'ospital see 'im," Francis bargained.  
"How do you know where he is?"  
"Antonio is traveling with zem. Besides zat, your favorite cafe is only a block off...it's my treat, if you calm down."  
"Fine. But for only a little while then you'll take me to him?"  
"Oui"  
"...Okay"  
They stopped at the cafe, Arthur trudging to the bathroom to clean his hands while Francis ordered the drinks. He scrubbed furiously at his hands until all the blood was gone. He stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes were pink and puffy and he was trembling. He felt like someone had ripped his heart from his chest, taking what little hope he had in him. He wanted more than anything to be in the gondola with Alfred without any care in the world. He didn't want to be in a coffee shop, he didn't want to go in the hospital, he just wanted to be in the gondola with Alfred and he knew more than anything that it would never happen now. Tears fell down his cheeks and he began to bawl, falling on the bathroom floor. Almost on queue the bathroom door flung open and Francis walked in.  
"I could hear you from across ze cafe," he said walking towards Arthur and kneeling next to him. He put his arm around Arthur and hugged him, trying to comfort him as best as he could.  
"Francis please let me see him. I promise I won't make a scene. I just want to see him. I want to make sure he's okay. Please Francis." Arthur looked into Francis's eyes, trying his best to show he meant what he said.  
"Fine" Francis stood and helped Arthur up as well. They walked out of bathroom trying to avoid the customers' and workers' eyes, everyone in the cafe had heard Arthur's cries, and blatantly stared at him. They made their way out of the cafe and walked towards Arthur's car.  
"Where is your car?" Arthur asked, securing his seatbelt and backing up out of the parking space.  
"Antonio dropped me off 'ere," Francis said. He waited until Arthur drove past the ferris wheel to tell him the directions. Surprisingly Arthur had composed himself quite well. His driving was steady and his expression stoic, the only trace of a breakdown was his puffy red eyes. Arthur's hands shook while he drove and he had a sickening knot in his stomach. Alfred was in critical condition when he had been taken away, his condition could have worsened in the time being. Arthur drove faster to the hospital, following all of the directions Francis dictated to him until the hospital was in view. He drove into the lot and hastily parked in the first spot that was open. He climbed out of the car and sprinted for the hospital's entrance.  
Francis ran after to him and gripped his arm, "Calm down, you're already frantic. You didn't even lock your car doors either." Arthur grabbed the keys in his palm and locked it, afterward he tried to make a break for the door. "Non, breathe."  
"This is ridiculous! I did everything you asked, let me go, Francis!"  
"Fine zen, but don't 'ave a 'eartattack in zere."  
Francis released Arthur and the Brit ran for the door as soon as his grasp was gone. Arthur strode into the waiting room and to the front desk. "Is Alfred Jones in?" he spoke with clarity, though under the sight of the receptionist he was wringing his hands.  
"One minute, dear," she said as she scanned her computer, "J...J...ah Jones, yes he is in surgery right now, poor boy." She looked at Arthur, "Family member I take it?"  
"Er...Yes. Step brother. Does he have a room?" Arthur asked.  
"Yes, room 114, eighth floor. I don't think he will be out anytime soon, but you are welcome to wait in there. I'll tell them you're there." Arthur nodded apprehensively and walked towards the elevators. He pressed the up button and waited for the elevators to be available. One of the elevator doors opened and he stepped inside as a couple carrying their baby stepped out. The doors closed and he pressed the button for the eighth floor and waited until it brought him to that level. Hospitals were foreign to him, he'd probably only had been to one once in his life and that was during his birth. He wasn't fond of hospitals and this didn't help his opinion in the least.

When the elevator reached the eighth floor he stepped out and made his way towards room 114. He walked past other rooms, seeing patients ill and in casts only made him more concerned. Alfred could be in worse state than that, possibly even placed in a coma or even leading to his death. To him, thinking about Alfred's death was incomprehensible, Arthur believed that no matter how much damage had been caused Alfred would live through it. He approached the room slowly hoping more than anything that Alfred was still in surgery and he wouldn't have to see the outcome of the accident. He slowly opened the door, and sighed in relief. The room was completely empty. He had decided that he was going to stay over, knowing he would fall asleep before Alfred was brought in. He pulled up a chair in the corner of the room and sat down. He took off his sweater and rolled it up so he could use it as a pillow and avoid any whiplash. He couldn't sleep at first because of his constant apprehension and uneasiness but eventually his exhaustion set in.

* * *

Arthur woke up the next morning to the sounds of feet walking around and the beeping of a machine. He slowly opened his eyes in order to adjust to the sunlight. He stood up keeping his gaze focused on the hospital bed before him. Alfred's face couldn't be seen behind the monitor and he began to think of the possibility that the patient wasn't him and that Alfred had not survived the accident. He leaned to his right, seeing over the monitor and looking at the patient lying in the bed. His heart felt like it would burst, there were bandages wrapped around the patient's head, covering his eyes. He didn't look at the rest of the body and looked at label wrapped around his wrist. Alfred Jones, it read. He had never been so relieved in his life and began to smile thankful that Alfred was still alive. He was breathing slowly and the heart monitor was still beeping. He approached the bed quietly so Alfred wouldn't wake. When he finally reached the foot of the bed he froze in horror. Alfred's left leg and arm were in a cast and his chest was heavily bandaged in order to prevent the ripping of many stitches. What scarred Arthur the most was Alfred's head wrap. Arthur could feel the tears running down his eyes, he knew these devices would grant Alfred little room to smile or laugh. At this moment all Arthur wanted to see was Alfred's smile. His thoughts stopped abruptly when a man in white coat and scrubs entered followed by a woman wearing only her scrubs.

"Hello there. You must one of Mr. Jones' relatives." the man said wearing a sympathetic smile. He had no redeeming features of any kind and through Arthur's eyes was incredibly plain looking.

"Yes. I am his step brother. You are?"

"Oh how silly of me. I am Dr. Mona" He said, as if he were attempting to eliminate the miserable atmosphere inside the room.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"Yes. With the way he's been reacting to the medication I wouldn't be surprised if he had a quick recovery."

"Really? Thank God"

"It's amazing really. It's rather unlikely for someone survive after a hit like that. I guess he just had a strong reason to live."

"Amazing" Arthur whispered wearing a tiny grin.

"He'll be asleep for a while but when he wakes call for the nurse." and with that Dr. Mona left the englishman in the room alone with Alfred.

Arthur moved the chair so that it sat by Alfred's bedside and hesitantly held Alfred's hand. He rubbed his thumb on the back of his hand, trying to warm it up. Everything seemed to be cold, the hospital, the room, and even Alfred. He lightly squeezed his hand, hoping for some signs of movement. He knew it was too early to expect anything, but still he hoped, hoped for anything. Maybe a small twitch in his fingers, or a deep sigh, for his eyelids to flicker, signs that he took for granted. Alfred just laid there, no movement but his steady breathing.  
He sat by Alfred's beside for hours just holding his hand. His eyes were getting tired from the bright white walls and his body freezing from the temperature. He worried Alfred might be cold too and asked a nurse to bring in a thicker blanket for him. Once the blanket was settled on him, Arthur let his head rest on the bed, not letting go of Alfred's hand.  
The morning came with brighter lights and the sound of nurses shoes and chattering. Slowly he got up, rubbing his neck wondering where he was for a few moments before it set in again. Arthur sat up, and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't want to think about his appearance, his eyes burned and he didn't think he could stop frowning. He stretched and glanced over to Alfred. No signs of movement. He sighed, at least the American felt warmer than he had before. He dug his hand in his pocket going to call in sick for work, he wouldn't dare go to his office while Alfred was in this condition. He could wake up at any moment and he didn't want to miss it, even if it was his eyes slowly opening for just a second before going back to sleep.  
All throughout the day Alfred didn't stir but it didn't crush Arthur's hopes. He had seen the America's eyelids move and him take in a deep breath before his breathing returned to normal. He smiled and gripped Alfred's hand tighter, no longer afraid that the American would shatter before his eyes. He shut his eyes, hoping for a short nap before the nurses came back in to check on him. When his eyelids closed he felt the smallest squeeze on the hand holding Alfred. He kept them closed, thinking it was his imagination but he felt it again. His eyes shot open and he stared into sleepy blue ones.  
"Al...Alfred?" he asked tentatively.  
He didn't speak, only squeezing Arthur's hand tighter. Arthur broke out in a smile, his whole being becoming brighter.  
"...rthr..." Alfred tried speaking but only ended with a fit of coughs.  
Arthur nodded and brought the glass of water to Alfred's mouth, having him swallow half of it before placing it back on the bedside table. He quickly returned his gaze back to Alfred's eyes. His eyes were sad and confused.

The young American had been surprised to see Arthur in such a miserable state. Arthur's hands had become cold from transferring his heat into Alfred's body and his overall appearance made him look like he was twice his age. Realization swept through Alfred's mind he looked down at his broken leg and froze. He was ashamed and didn't want Arthur to see him in this state.

"Alfred? Are you okay?" Arthur inquired. He couldn't help but see the look of disappointment plastered in Alfred's face.

He nodded and cleared his throat, "..how long have I been out?"

"Just a day" Arthur said.

"And...and did you stay here all this time?" he asked

"Of course I have, Alfred."

Alfred turned back to look at his injuries, he felt guilty. Instead of going on the ferris wheel and enjoying a dinner, Arthur had sat next to him the entire time in a hospital. He could have slapped himself for being so stupid, he knew there was oncoming traffic but he was too excited for his date with Arthur. He looked down sadly at his broken foot, he wasn't a hero.

Arthur took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was his fault Alfred wound up in the condition that he was in. If only he had been a few minutes earlier, or if he hadn't stopped for flowers it could have been prevented. He managed to screw up another date, and caused Alfred to be in such an awful state. He could never forgive himself.


End file.
